


Through Time and Space

by DukeOfDucks



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ace is a profound cretin sometimes, Gen, Resolving Unresolved Daddy Issues, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DukeOfDucks/pseuds/DukeOfDucks
Summary: One should always be wary of tiny old men with meters long beards. Portgas D. Ace is going to learn it the hard way today. A one of a kind journey awaits him, maybe the harshest so far.
Relationships: Gol D. Roger & Portgas D. Ace, Portgas D. Ace & Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace & Whitebeard Pirates
Comments: 31
Kudos: 135
Collections: Pyro's Faves





	1. The Tiny Old Man with a Great Beard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So just as a little foreword: English isn't my native language and I do not have a Beta reader so if you see any mistakes, or if you just feel like my writing doesn't really flow in English, feel free to tell me. It's my first time publishing work in English so I'm eager to learn. 
> 
> Now regarding this story... I really hope you enjoy it. I'm not sure yet how many chapters there will be, but the whole plot is already figured out. Expect lots of stupid situations that could have easily been avoided if the 'Managing your feelings' part of Ace's brain actually functioned.

“You are the one eating the most after all.” Really? That was all the support he got? Just because a task was about food didn’t mean he had to do it! Besides, he would have volunteered to do it anyway, he had been itching to get off the ship, and a scouting mission to evaluate some deserted island’s resources was the perfect excuse to do so.

But Portgas D. Ace was very much among those who, when told to do something they were about to do anyway, defiantly didn’t want to do it anymore. Not that he had much of a choice in the end. He kicked at a rock that stood in his way, giving a sigh as he looked around. The island was small, it shouldn’t take long. On top of being small, half of it was a ridiculously shaped mountain. It looked as if a giant stepped on a perfectly fine mountain and bent the whole upper part completely. Being ugly as hell wasn’t enough though, as it apparently also had some tunnel where people went...And never came out ever. 

Far from original. They were in the New World. There were probably more islands where people disappeared, than islands where they didn’t.

With a hum, he approached a tree whose branches were heavy with brightly coloured fruits, reaching up to pick one out and inspect it...Only to meet another pair of eyes, peering at him from the top of three.

He jumped back, hands lighting themselves on fire, and narrowed his eyes at the tree. The island was supposed to be completely uninhabited…

“Show yourself!” he ordered. 

For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if he didn’t just confuse weirdly-shaped leaves with eyes. He was quickly on guard again at the sound of ruffled leaves, and when someone dropped from the tree…

...Or something? He stared incredulously at the...Person? Thing? Alright, it looked somewhat like a person, a quite tiny one though. Not as in a cute fairy, no, more like a wrinkly old man barely reaching Ace’s knees. The worse had to be the beard though. That thing had to be at least three meters long, part of it was still tangled in the tree and the little old man was struggling and pulling on it to get it all back.

“...What the hell are you?”

One more angry pull and the absurd beard fell completely to the ground. The old man coughed to try and dismiss the embarrassing moment and proceeded to...Completely ignore Ace’s question.

“Would you like to see the past?” 

“...What?”

As if his appearance wasn’t enough, he was also off his rocker. Great, just great. 

“It’s easy, consequences-free! All you have to do is enter this tunnel…”

The old man gestured to his right and Ace nearly had a heart attack. He was absolutely positive he had been nowhere near the mountain, and certainly not right next to the infamous tunnel that made people disappear. The whole situation started to sound fishy, but he couldn’t just obliterate some tiny old man, could he? 

“Right, I enter the tunnel, and at the end of it there’s some kind of huge critter with lots of teeth waiting for its next meal.” 

“Time goes by slower there… You wouldn’t even worry your crewmates, what might be years for you there would only be a few months for them. Think of the opportunities...The people you lost too early...The people you never met…”

“I’m good with keeping on never meeting them, are we done now?” he asked with an annoyed click of his tongue. 

The little old man looked sorely disappointed and Ace wondered if that weird scheme to feed whatever beast was in that tunnel (because that was the only logical explanation) ever actually worked on people. He shook his head and stepped away, starting to put some distance between the two of them while keeping an eye on him.

“They always say no at the beginning. But then...They never come back.” the old man finally said. 

Ace’s gaze was ripped from the old man as the tunnel’s entrance seemed to expand. He tried to jump back, but met the same darkness on the other side, soon realizing he was completely surrounded, the impenetrable void closing down around him. In a last attempt at escaping, he let his power explode around him...But flames were useless against the nothingness.

* * *

Ace fell flat on his face against hard pavement, making him groan. This better not be Heaven or else he’d complain about the welcome. He’d more likely go to Hell though...And if that was Hell, well, people were fussing about it for nothing.

He sat up and adjusted his hat over his head, looking around. Uh. Forget Hell and Heaven. He knew this place.

Logue Town.

“Are you alright, sir…?”

He looked up and was met with the worried face of a middle-aged woman. He shook his head and stood up, dusting himself off a bit to regain composure.

“I’m good, thank you...Erh, do you know where I could find a den den mushi?”

However this mess had happened, he needed to warn his crew that he might not be back immediately...And that they needed to send someone else to scout for resources. Oh, and to be wary of weird tiny old men with very long beards. What even happened anyway? As he headed towards the office the woman told him about, he tried to recount what happened. The old man, the tunnel, time travel...Time travel? He frowned. No, that was space travel for sure (how could he have gotten from the New World to Logue Town in such a short time?), but time travel was absurd. Besides...This was Logue Town for sure but...He looked around, squinting slightly. It felt off. There was something missing. He wasn’t sure what but...Then again it had been a while. Several years even, since he last came to this town. Of course it would be different. 

The frontdesk workers greeted him politely when he entered the building, directing him to the nearest free Den Den Mushi. Now he had to get ready for the mocking and the sighing and the comments about how he somehow always attracted the most absurd people and situations. With a pout, he dialed Thatch’s number. He only knew two by heart, his and Marco’s, and Thatch would only mock him, not mock AND scold him. 

_“The number you have dialed is not in service.”_

Wonderful. What did Thatch do to his poor Den Den Mushi? Even Ace took good care of his, keeping it on his desk. Marco it was then. 

_“The number you have dialed is not in service.”_

Crew of irresponsible cretins. 

With a grumble, he reached for the little notepad in his pocket, dialing each and every commander’s number. 

_“The number you have dialed is not in service.”_ the voice repeated for the sixteenth time.

Ace glared at the device, pondering making it ‘not in service’ too by slamming it against the table.

Relax. They were in the New World. It wasn’t exactly an easy place to reach, communications were often blocked due to wild weather and phenomena. Fine, he’d just start making his way back to the New World and try to contact them on the way so they wouldn’t worry too much. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and exited the building after paying. He’d just ask for a spot on a not-too-run-down ship to get back in Paradise, then he’d find a little boat for himself there. It’d be much easier with the Striker, but he couldn’t just make one again that easily. 

He stopped on the plaza with a sigh. It felt like a million years since he first reached that town. It had been a mess. He remembered standing there, glaring at the scaffold where the life of the Pirate King ended. He remembered having gone to a bar and having drunk more than his share. He hadn’t eaten the Mera Mera no Mi back then so he…

His train of thoughts came to a brutal halt.

The scaffold. It was gone. Completely gone. 

_“Would you like to see the past?”_ murmured a faint voice in his head. 

He slapped himself in the face and turned away. Now wasn’t the time to be stupid. Some reckless pirates probably damaged it beyond repair. Good riddance. 

Ignoring the unease in his guts, he walked to the port. Getting on a ship should be easy enough. He was Fire Fist Ace after all. The difficulty of the task would be to find a ship in a good enough state, commanded by a crew that wasn’t just a bunch of idiots with no navigating skills. Dying while crossing Red Line, now that would be stupid. He hummed to himself as he walked along docks, critically looking at the various boats. Maybe he’d have to wait a night or two before finding…

“I found some, Pops!” 

He stopped dead in his tracks at the unusual nickname, his eyes soon finding the pirate who said that. No idea who that was. Maybe there were other pirates who liked to…

Mindlessly, his eyes had gone in the same direction as the man, and fell on a ridiculously tall man. With a long crescent-shaped mustache. His jaw fell slack as he kept staring. That was...No, it wasn’t...It was Whitebeard...But the Whitebeard of the old Wanted Posters Fossa kept in his dusty albums. A young Whitebeard. Standing on the deck of a ship flying the very same flag Ace had tattooed on his back.

For the very first time in his life, Portgas D. Ace turned around and ran away.


	2. Portg Ace the not-Mera Mera no Mi user

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! The real mess starts unraveling now!  
> Have a good read!

Ace nervously checked himself out in the tall mirror of the shop he had barged in, making sure the black shirt he had picked was completely opaque. Last thing he needed right now was for one of the Whitebeard pirates to see his tattoo. How bloody weird would it look? Yes, hello, we have never met ever, but I have a gigantic tattoo of your flag on my back, have a good day. 

But he had even bigger problems than that. That whole crazy time travel story...Was real. That old man really sent him in the past. His crewmates’ numbers weren’t in service because those numbers had not been given to anyone yet. Hell, most of his crewmates were probably toddlers right now, or teenagers. Even his captain was a young man now and…

A terrible realization hit him, making him lean back against the nearest wall, his face paling. The scaffold. It wasn’t some reckless pirate who took it down. The scaffold wasn’t _gone_. It hadn’t been put up yet.

Gol D. Roger was still alive. Somewhere, out there, his wretched father was still alive.

“You are going to pay for that, right, kid?” 

The shop’s clerk (who was warily keeping an eye on him) startled him and forcefully pulled him out of his thoughts. He straightened up a bit and nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” he assured, approaching to pay.

Bless the World Government for never changing the worldwide currency.

Well, fuck them for literally everything else, but bless them for that at least.

He had to stay practical, think practical, and focus on going back to his own time. First, what year was it? Roger had been executed in 1500. So he was at least twenty years in the past. What else? Whitebeard was already the captain of his own crew. He didn’t know lots about his crew’s past, pirates did not dwell on the past. Besides, starting to ask questions about people’s pasts was opening the door to them asking about HIS past and he’d rather not. But he at least knew that his captain used to be on another crew before. So he was somewhere between Whitebeard leaving his old crew, and Roger getting killed. His own self wasn’t born, Sabo wasn’t born, Luffy wasn’t…

He winced.

Garp was very much alive, and younger, and probably full of energy, somewhere on the Ocean. Now that was something he absolutely didn’t want to see. 

Now came the real problem. Going back home. And quick. Before his brain had the time to process any of that mess.

After a last check at his shirt-clad back, he exited the shop and went back on the docks. His best and only lead was to go back to the island and grill the tiny old man until he sent him back to his own time. He refused to think for a single second about the possibility of it being impossible. 

“You have been wandering around for a while, kid, are you lost?”

He had to get used to random people patronizingly calling him a kid instead of running away from him, and he hated it already. Turning around, ready to snap at the woman who called him that, he lost his words at the sight. Alright. Not a random person. “Ice Witch” Whitey Bay. Who was she calling a kid though, she didn’t look much older than him! 

“Erh, no, I was just...Looking for a ship.” he mumbled.

She wasn’t wearing her hat that had her Jolly Roger on. Maybe she wasn’t a captain yet?

“What ship?”

“Uh, just any ship, I just want to...Uh... Go back to the New World.”

Her face immediately brightened and he knew he was going to regret those words in a few seconds. 

“Pops!” she called over.

Oh no. 

“We are looking for a few more hands on the deck, I’m sure Pops would be willing to take you for the ride to the New World if you are willing to work. Right?”

Ace froze, mindlessly clutching at his shirt to make sure the wing wouldn’t lift it, looking up at his towering younger father approaching them. 

Holy shit he had _hair_. Long and luxurious blond locks.

Focus, Ace, focus.

“What’s your name, boy?”

Was it too late to run away again? Though...All of the other ships looked shoddy, and their crew shady...If there was one ship here he was sure would reach the New World, it was the Moby Dick. Much fewer risks of stupidly dying in the past. If he kept his tattoo hidden, it would all be alright. Just had to keep his exhibitionist tendencies to himself for once, and nothing would go wrong. 

“Ace.” He replied with newfound resolution. “Portg…”

He bit down on his tongue. No. Whitebeard knew Roger. What if he knew his mother too? Portgas D. couldn’t be a common name, especially not with the D.

“Portg?”

“...Yeah, that’s it. Portg. Portg Ace.” he nodded. 

Well, that was off to a great start. He could read “Are you kidding me?” all over Whitebeard and Whitey’s faces. Thankfully, the huge man’s laughter soon echoed through the docks, almost shaking the air around them. 

“Portg Ace it is then. Welcome aboard until we reach the New World, then. Can you fight?”

“I can.”

Without thinking, he cockily lit his hand on fire. As soon as his eyes met Whitebeard’s incredulous gaze, he knew he had fucked up massively.

If he wasn’t born yet, he couldn’t have eaten the Mera Mera no Mi. It was a lusted after power that made its owner incredibly powerful effortlessly, whoever had it at the time was probably somewhat known. 

And judging by his father’s gaze...He knew that whoever.

“Tell me boy, where did you get that power? Did you eat the Mera Mera no Mi?”

“...The what?” He had always been awful at lying but he had to give it his best shot. “Uh, I don’t know. When I was young I ate this weird fruit you see. It looked like a...Uh...A banana…”

Thank you, Thatch.

“...But a bit like a pineapple too…”

Thank you, Marco.

“...And it was purple. Tasted absolutely awful!”

“I see. But you are a logia? Of fire?”

If he lied on that, that’d be discovered quite quickly.

“...Yeah?”

“Uh.”

He tried his most innocent grin as the other two exchanged a look.

“Well, maybe it’s really a different fruit.”

“I’d hope so. I wouldn’t wish death on that fire-crazy guy.”

Ace perked up in interest.

“Fire-crazy guy?”

He wanted to go back to his time as soon as possible but who wouldn’t be slightly curious in his situation? Getting to know who had his power before. But all he got for an answer was another air-shaking laughter. 

“You’ll get to meet him soon enough probably. Let’s go now. Is it all you travel with?”

He simply nodded at the gesture towards his bag, following them to the ship. Sorry, hadn’t planned on doing a twenty years trip. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have good navigation skills, by the way?” Whitey asked him, making him raise his eyebrows. But there was no time for him to answer.

“Ush, girl. I have already decided who I want as our new navigator.”

“Pops, you really need to stop adopting people BEFORE meeting them. What if he doesn’t want to join?”

“Then we’ll convince him, gurarara!”

Ace shivered. So kidnapping people until they were forced to realize they really wanted to join the crew had always been a common practice, uh.

“But don’t you already have a navigator?” he asked, having always assumed Marco had been with them since...Forever really.

“We do, but not for long anymore, as he wants to leave to have his own crew. Besides...The waters of the New World were sometimes too much even for him. So...Rakuyo was in a bar and heard about some kid. All we know is that he roams in Paradise, but he has been seen in Logue Town too, which is why we came back here. They say he has incredible skills and an even more incredible power. Only little issue Pops refuse to even care about is that everywhere he goes...Crews dissolve and disappear.”

Ace’s mouth gaped a little. Was that Marco? Incredible navigation skills, even more incredible power. That had to be Marco right? What the hell was he doing with his life before joining the Whitebeard crew? And how old was he right now? Marco’s age was always the butt of all jokes, as he never seemed to age, but Whitney said “some kid”... Surely he was at least a teenager, unless Ace went back much further in time than he initially thought.

This whole situation sucked terribly, but he might manage to get something out of it. Learning more about his crewmates couldn’t hurt, right?

He was introduced to the rest of the crew, trying to not make any more mistakes and to not get confused by his own lies. The crew was still small enough to not be divided into divisions, and none of the commanders he was the closest too, Marco, Thatch and Izou, had joined yet. Most of those he knew hadn’t joined yet, actually. There was Vista, who looked ridiculously serious and really made him wonder what the hell happened to make him the way he was in the future, barely seventeen years old. There was Jozu, who told him he was twelve, but there was no way in hell he was actually twelve, how could he be so huge already? Rakuyo hadn’t changed much, though it seemed he hadn’t made the terrible decision of growing a mustache yet (neither did Vista anyway). Andre and Epoida, like Whitey, didn’t have their own crews yet. Fossa was there, and his hair was still there as well. On the other hand, Atmos and Kingdew literally hadn’t changed at all, which was quite impressive. 

Now he had another task, on top of hiding his tattoo, and not messing up when lying…

Not dying of laughter whenever he’d see the younger versions of his crewmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ace is discovering old people with no hair used to be young people with hair, and he has a hard time getting over it. He is also discovering terrible mustache decisions come with age. 
> 
> Just as a note, I try to follow the canon timeline and events as much as possible but I obviously will also add my grain of salt. It's not like we have that much information about that era anyway so I'd say I have quite a bit of freedom. 
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter!


	3. The Bird who Outdrank An Entire Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you for reading the previous chapters, I hope you enjoy this one!

“He kind of reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“You too, son?” Whitebeard raised his eyebrows at Rakuyo.

That Portg Ace definitely was familiar in an odd and vague way. 

“Can’t be someone I like, I have a lingering urge to punch him.” 

“Please, don’t.”

Whitebeard laughed. Not that he’d do it but still, the urge was there. 

The whole kid was fishy. The way he had answered questions, even something as simple as giving his name...And of course, his devil fruit. He had been sailing for a while, he knew his fair share about devil fruits. Some were similar for sure, but that similar? He had never heard of two people wielding the same power even though many tried to share fruits and take bites at the exact same time. 

In spite of all that mystery, he couldn’t feel any ill intents from the boy. Which only added to the mystery, really. Why would someone with no ill intents lie and hide his identity? 

And another one...For someone who seemed so nervous at the idea of joining the crew initially, he sure got at ease fast. He was already laughing and bantering with the others. If he did not know better, he would think he had been part of the crew for months or years already.

* * *

“Pabagne!” Epoida triumphantly declared, provoking a few eyebrows to rise. “That navigator kid Pops is after is very likely on his way to Pabagne, the next island on our route. He joined a crew here...If he follows his usual pattern, he won’t have a crew anymore by the time he reaches the island and will stay there for a bit. We should have time to meet him there.”

Ace shivered. Even though everything pointed at that navigator kid being Marco, it was still weird to imagine. His crewmates made sure to share all the rumors they had heard with him, and it just kept getting wilder and wilder. Speculations about his power ranged from the correct answer, a phoenix Zoan, to the strangest ideas, a Logia of all the elements, a divinity Zoan akin to Sengoku’s Buddha, or even a power related to the sea itself. As for what he did… As many members of the crew he left were never seen again, murder seemed the most likely option. Some said he’d defeat everyone by hand, others that he’d poison them slowly over the course of his journey with them.

It all painted a quite gloomy and scary picture of Marco that clashed with the one Ace knew, a permanent lazy cat-like smile on his lips and the infinite patience to deal with this whole crew. 

Part of him wanted to tell everyone that in twenty years or so they’d be nicknaming that kid “mother hen”.

“I thought not murdering crewmates was the only ironclad rule on this ship, though?” he couldn’t help but point out.

“Well, that’s on our ship. Pops says maybe that kid has good reasons. We can’t know until we meet him I suppose, but Pops is stubborn, you have no idea.”

Oh boy, yes. He knew full well how stubborn the man was. 

“I hope Pops is right, talented navigators are hard to come by.”

* * *

Now that was a sight Ace wasn’t used to seeing. Hopeful men actually trying to outdrink Marco. People were smarter than that usually. 

Also, Marco couldn’t be older than eighteen, probably even younger, and the tavern’s owner obviously couldn’t give a damn. He was probably making more money in a single day than he did in a whole year. 

The first thing they had seen when they reached Pabagne had been the remnants of a ship that sunk on the docks. The first rumor they heard once they set foot on the land was that there was a kid outdrinking the entire town in a nearby bar. That was where they found him. 

Marco laughed as yet another man fell to the ground. After all the rumors he had heard, Ace had been expecting to meet a scary version of Marco, but that kid was laughing up a storm instead.

“Imma do it.”

“Fossa, _no_.”

“What? He has to be near his limit by now, no one’s liver can handle all of that!”

“Maybe it’s a trick, like the bartender is pouring him watered-down beer...Tricking all those guys into spending all their money trying to outdrink him, then they split the cash at the end of the day.” Whitey speculated.

“Maybe his so-called great power is eternal sobriety.”

Ace really wished he had one of those Den Den Mushi that could take pictures on him right now. Young Marco standing on a pile of passed out men, cheered on by the entire tavern as he finished his mug of beer. 

No doubt anymore, he already had eaten his devil fruit. 

“One of you guys said you heard a rumor about his power being a phoenix Zoan, that would check out, no? Instant healing so...He wouldn’t be able to get drunk.” he suggested.

“Devil fruits can do that?”

“Well, mine can burn out alcohol in my blood so…”

“Wait, is that why you eat so fucking much?! Burn it all while it’s still in your stomach?”

Ace laughed.

“No, I’ve always eaten like that.”

“Hey, kid! Come over here!” Whitey called Marco, waving to get his attention. 

Not a shy lad in the least, the blond approached them, pulling up a chair to comfortably sit with them. Ace leaned in slightly, eager to get a better look. He looked even younger from up close, maybe fifteen years old? His hair seemed softer, though still in the same strange shape as his adult’s self. He had lost none of his baby face yet and he had a sudden urge to squish his cheeks together. A snort escaped him at the thought. This was all starting to be a bit too much. Pops’ and Fossa’s hair, Portg Ace, the purple banana-pineapple devil fruit, the ridiculously big twelve years old Jozu...And now Marco’s baby cheeks.

He broke down laughing. 

Everyone stared at him as he hid his face in his hands, cackling like a hyena to the point of bringing tears to his eyes, finding himself unable to stop.

“...He is adopted.”

“Rakuyo, we are all adopted.”

Marco seemed split between being weirded out or offended as it seemed the other man had been laughing at him. Whitebeard soon joined Ace in laughing and gave him a harsh slap on the back that nearly made him spit out all his teeth. 

“Seems like we lost our Ace. He’ll be back with us soon, I’m sure. So, boy, what’s your name?”

“I’m Marco. What’s yours, gramps?”

Ace had been so close, _oh so close_ , to calming down. Marco calling their father ‘gramps’ sent him right back into his laughing fit, Whitey rubbing his back in a distant show of support. 

“Want me to join your crew, gramps?”

“Well, that’s a confident brat.” Vista commented

Marco scoffed.

“I’m right though, am I not?”

When he’d be back in his own time, Ace would never ever be able to look at Marco’s face again without seeing that petulant and cocky teenager. 

“We heard a lot about your navigation skills. Rumors also say you are a devil fruit user, is that right?”

“Sure. But you can drop the act you know? I know what you want, I’m alright with it, may the best of us survive.” 

A heavy silence fell on the table, and Ace had to choke on the last few giggles that wanted to get out of his throat so he wouldn't break it. 

“What do you mean, boy?” Whitebeard enquired.

“ _We heard a lot about your navigation skills, rumors also say you are a devil fruit user._ ” Marco repeated in a clearly mocking voice.

Future Marco was officially banned from ever calling Ace a brat again. _That_ was a brat, he was an angel next to him. 

Being the only one who knew for sure what devil fruit the blond wielded, it was easier to guess what might be wrong. It was what made the most sense to him at least, because he couldn’t imagine Marco really murdered past crewmates for no reason, and why he’d be so wary now.

“You think we want you just for your fruit.” he tried. “To take it from you.”

“Because you aren’t?” Marco laughed in disbelief. The strained laugh of someone who didn’t actually find something funny. 

“Is that what happened with all your previous crews?”

Whitebeard could easily see it. If his power was as desirable as the rumors said, the world was probably swarming with people ready to take him in their crew only to try and murder him at night. His previous crew had been full of exactly that kind of people. 

“And you think we are going to try it too, yet you are still willing to come with us?” 

Marco shrugged, and Ace was slowly starting to understand how the first commander had managed to be the first person to get close to him in that crew. There weren’t many people who could relate with knowing that no matter what they did, no matter where they went, people would want them dead.

“It’s not like I can stay on this island forever, I’ll need to move around eventually. I’ll come with you, you will try to get me, and I’ll beat you and sink your ship in the next port.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starring: Marco's emo phase.  
> Whitebeard was good at handling Ace's abysmal lack of self-worth when he joined the crew because he already had twenty years of experience wrangling brats rejected by the whole world and with warped views of themselves.  
> Pabagne is an absolutely not canon island by the way.  
> Thank you for reading, have a good day!


	4. The Chef and the Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Been a bit slower than usual since I was busy but here is the new chapter, with more emo phase Marco!  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“How long do you reckon before he accepts that we aren’t going to try and kill him, and accepts to join the crew?” Rakuyo asked.

“At that rate...One century sounds optimistic.” Vista sighed.

Ace could only agree with them. Marco had “joined” them around a week ago, and not an ounce of progress had been made since then. On the outside, it probably looked like everything was fine. Marco interacted a lot with them on deck, he worked as their navigator, and was generally easy to find during the day. He laughed with them, bantered with them...But... Marco didn’t eat with them, slept in hidden corners, treated everything they handed him as a potential death threat, and laughed in their face whenever they suggested he did something with him that would cause him to lower his guard slightly. Except drinking, he sure didn’t mind drinking with them. Ace had asked why and had gotten “You all get drunk, yet I’m sober, so I’m safer!”. 

He wanted to shake that stupid bird. 

And Vista was right. At that rate, nothing would ever change Marco’s mind and make him join the crew for real. But Ace knew he would, at some point, then he’d go on to become first mate...So something would happen. He just had to wait. He didn’t dare to interfere too much. Yes, the tiny old man said that whole time travel business would be “easy” and “consequences-free” but could he trust him? Absolutely not. So he wasn’t going to take the risk of fucking up and causing Marco to never ever join, just in case it would change the future too.

Wait. If Marco didn’t join, then he couldn’t convince him to join the crew either, so Ace wouldn’t be on Whitebeard’s crew, so he would have never been on that island, never sent to the past, and…

Now he had a headache. Headache that was soon gone as he stumbled forward, catching himself as massive talons planted themselves onto his shoulders.

“Hey, Fire Ball!”

Ah yes. Another detail about teenage Marco: He liked to land and perch himself on people. And when he said ‘people’, that meant Ace most of the time.

With a groan, he looked up, his eyes meeting similarly grey ones. 

“There have to be easier places to land on than me, no?”

“Probably but you are funnier to land on.”

“Brat.”

How the tables had turned. 

“Land on other people then, I’m sure they’d be funny too.”

“Yes, but they’d badger me about joining your crew.”

The tables were doing backflips at that point. 

“You know why I don’t?” Ace smirked, sure it would piss off the teenager. “I don’t need to, I know you will join the crew for good.”

Marco scoffed and got off his shoulders, crossing his arms as he landed right in front of him. Ace snickered.

“You are just a new hire too, aren’t you? And just with them until you reach the New World. Why do you act all high and mighty then?”

“Who knows. Maybe I know the future.” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

Another scoff. That Marco’s buttons were ridiculously easy to push and Ace had a hard time stopping himself from doing it. Plus it made the phoenix puff up his cheeks in annoyance and it was ridiculously cute.

“I could beat your ass.” The blond threatened.

“You could, yeah.” Ace nodded, before humming. “Wait, maybe not actually…”

Future Marco would beat him every time, yes, but...That was a twenty years younger Marco. He had his devil fruit, and could use haki to some extent (the few times someone had stumbled upon one of the places he slept, he’d wake up immediately, sensing their presence)... He certainly was strong, having beaten entire crews on his own but...Ace was no small fry either.

“Want to test it?” he offered, grinning as he lit his hands on fire.

Much to his dismay, Marco’s reaction was to step back and narrow his eyes at him.

“You have seastone cuffs on you, don’t you? Just want me distracted.”

Ace sighed.

“Marco, even if I wanted to kill you, you are overestimating my scheming skills. And the size of my pockets.”

The teenager pouted and glanced down at his shorts, as if evaluating the size of his pockets. 

“Besides, how the hell do you want me to be able to hold seastone cuffs against you?” Ace lit his hand on fire as a reminder. 

“Constantly asking the why and how is how you die early.”

Ace sighed again and gave up. Maybe later.

Their attention was drawn away by a strange noise coming from the port. They both approached the guardrail and easily spotted the few men who had gone to do some groceries… And a child hanging from one of their arm, clinging on it like his life depended on it and repeating “Please, please, please, please!” over and over.

Ace squinted. Long mousy brown hair that fell all over the place, dirty clothes...Could it be…?

“What’s that crew’s deal with picking up kids?” Marco asked.

“Hell if I know. And you are a kid yourself.”

“So are you.”

“I’m  _ 20 _ .”

That new one looked even younger than Marco though, who was fifteen (the blond had refused to tell at first but everyone had bugged him enough about it that he had relented). 

“What’s the deal?” he asked once the men were on board, the one with the kid half-heartedly shaking his arm to try and get him to let go.

“We met this kid at the market and he, well, he hasn’t let go since then. He wants to join the crew and...Yeah, he is very clingy so I figured I’d just bring it to Pops and...Make him someone else’s problem.”

Ace laughed. Good call. His eyes turned to the boy, maybe eleven or twelve, smiling slightly. If he had anyone to bet with, he’d bet that was Thatch.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.

The boy fell quiet, looking at him and finally letting go of the poor man. He straightened up, trying to look taller than he really was.

“I’m Thatch, sir!”

Ace couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. Well, he was cuter than insufferable teenage Marco at least.

“I can cook, and I can clean, I can do chores, I’ll just sleep in a corner and not disturb anyone!”

“Ah, we don’t need someone else to creepily sleep in hidden corners, we already have Marco for that. Why don’t you tell all that to Pops and see what he says?”

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Thatch had been accepted. He was an orphan who had been waiting for a chance to get away from his island, and had heard the men at the market talk about their crew. He had decided he’d go with them and had harassed them until they at least agreed to take him to pops. And from there...Well, pops had never been able to say no to puppy eyes, and that young Thatch sure had some really great ones. 

“Are you eating with us tonight?” Ace asked Marco.

Annoyed at Vista who tried to convince him to properly join the crew again, Marco had come to find Ace on watch duty, sitting on the edge of the guardrail. Not that he’d die if he fell, being a literal bird and all.

“Not you too.” he groaned.

“What?” 

“That new kid cornered me earlier and bugged me until I agreed to come and eat with everyone tonight. Apparently he is the one cooking, or helping to cook, whatever, and he wants to share with everyone.”

“Well, that’s nice of him. So you are coming, then?”

“I agreed so...Yeah.” he sighed. 

“What do you even fear there? It’s not like someone could poison you. And he just got here, he probably doesn’t even know about your power.”

“Someone could have told him already. And…”

The blond shrugged slightly, looking up at the sky. 

“Some other crew once tried me with a seastone pellet in my food. No idea where they got that, maybe they stole it from some Marines… Anyway, I got lucky my fork hit it and I realized it was there. Choking on a seastone pellet can’t be a good experience.”

Ace’s jaw fell slightly. Marco had never gone into details about how other people had tried to get him, so he had just figured they had tried to handcuff him, or maybe shoot him from afar with seastone bullets...But that was insidious.

“That’s fucked.” he said honestly.

Marco laughed.

“I know, right? I don’t eat with anyone since then. Seastone pellets can’t be easy to find but...I probably won’t get lucky twice. Ah well. I agreed already so...I’ll just mash the dish with my fork to make sure it’s safe.”

Future Thatch wouldn’t appreciate someone mashing his food he spent so much time preparing with their fork, but Ace figured young Thatch probably was more withdrawn and wouldn’t say anything. Maybe that was it then? What made Marco stay. Maybe he ended up befriending Thatch. The two were so close in the future apparently. 

* * *

“He’s such a sweet kid! Always running around to help everyone and doing his best!” Whitey marveled. 

Young Thatch had apparently conquered the hearts of the whole crew in no less than one afternoon.

“He sucks at fighting though. Like, zero skills.” she chuckled.

“Well if he’s good with a kitchen knife, maybe Vista could teach him how to wield a sword…”

Vista gasped in offense at the art of sword fighting being compared to using a vulgar kitchen knife.

Ace glanced at Marco to check on him. The blond was too focused to participate in the conversation, meticulously smashing his food to bits with his fork. It was a pain to see that particularly nice-looking (and delicious) dish being slaughtered but eh...Marco was with them, it was progress!

“Do you guys like the food?!” a voice from behind them suddenly asked.

Thatch was there, apparently making sure everyone was enjoying his cooking. He was practically bouncing up and down and Ace found it quite endearing how he didn’t change that much. Future Thatch’s greatest joy was also to see his family eat his food (and Ace was convinced a large part of why they were friends was because the chef enjoyed seeing him eat so much). 

Praises fused from the table, making the boy’s cheeks redden in happiness. Then his eyes fell on Marco, frowning.

“Don’t you like it?” he asked worriedly. “I can make you something else if you’d like.”

“Uh? No, no, I haven’t tried it yet, I just have to finish this.”

“...This?”

“Just checking.”

“...For what?”

Oh no, Ace thought. 

“Seastone, whatever, something that could kill me.”

To his surprise, Thatch stayed quiet. Future him would have exploded at that. That someone could think he’d poison his own food, that he’d use his cooking to kill someone in such a treacherous manner. 

“I see. Wait, let me help you.”

The boy reached for the plate, and Ace wondered if he was going to join in on the mashing spree.

Instead, he just smashed the full plate onto Marco’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the start of something beautiful, I tell you.


	5. Kids will be kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you will enjoy this chapter!  
> I'm starting to think of other projects and all I come up with are other fanfictions centered around helping characters with unresolved daddy issues... Sarting to get worrying.

Ace was split between worrying and laughing his ass off. Marco didn’t react immediately at the offense and his bewildered food-covered face was just priceless.

He really really needed to get his hands on a pictures-taking Den Den Mushi before the end of this crazy adventure. 

“You should probably run, kid.” Vista advised.

Blue flames flared up out of sudden, sandals-clad feet turning into deadly talons. Mesmerized by the transformation, Thatch didn’t even have the good sense of putting his arms up in front of his face. Everyone saw him fly across the dining hall after Marco kicked him straight in the face. To the teenager’s disappointment, someone caught the poor kid before he crashed against a wall. He grumbled and focused on getting the food out of his face...And missed Thatch running at him to tackle him down with full force. The two boys toppled over and were starting to draw in a crowd with their fight.

“What’s up?”

“Kids being kids.”

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Ace asked.

He was mostly worried about the wild strength difference there had to be between the two. On his left, an overpowered teenager with a mythical devil fruit and who had taken out entire crews of grown men on his own. On his right...Well, tiny Thatch. 

But Marco didn’t seem to aim to kill, so he supposed they could let them go at it for a bit. If he had wanted to, he probably could have gotten rid of the other kid by now. He was quickly back on top and went to punch the younger boy who was wriggling and trying to get away while screaming bloody murder, but stopped abruptly.

“Your face!”

Everyone leaned in at the same time and finally noticed the deep bloody gash next to Thatch’s eye.

“You kicked me with your stupid bird feet, what did you expect?!” 

Thatch tried to punch Marco but the phoenix had no problems pushing his arm away.

“What is going on here?!” thundered a voice.

Whitebeard was joining them for dinner at last, and the first thing he had seen was the crowd around the two fighting boys.

“Kids letting out some steam.” Vista commented. 

The man laughed loudly but still approached to separate the two, easily getting a hold of them. 

“Marco, you ought to be nicer to your little brother. What happened?”

“He threw food at me!”

“He said I poisoned his food! The food I made! Like I wanted to murder a stupid turkey!”

The birth of the infamous nickname. What a touching moment.

“I am not a turkey!”

Face all red, the blond squirmed to try and get out of Whitebeard’s grip, soon transforming into his hybrid form to make it easier. But the man had no intention to let him escape the scolding and didn’t let go. 

“Take that boy to the nurses.” Whitebeard advised, handing Thatch over to Kingdew.

The boy’s eyes were watery but he was obviously making a point of not crying in spite of the deep wound just besides his eye. Ace mindlessly scratched his cheek, feeling like he couldn’t put his finger on something.

His thoughts, and everyone else’s, were interrupted by a loud and inhuman screech. Marco had changed into his phoenix form and was panickedly flapping his wings in fruitless attempts at breaking free. It would have been funny if they couldn’t have felt the very real distress emanating from the teenager. Their father could as well, and he opened his hand.

Marco did not lose any time, putting as much distance as he physically could between the two of them, turning back to his hybrid form and standing in a fighting stance. His wary gaze travelled from pirate to pirate, and Ace had a feeling he was ready to turn everyone to shreds (or die trying) if the slightest suspicious move was done.

Whitebeard was, well, not impressed.

When was he ever impressed, really? 

“Vista, you are off for tonight. Thatch and Marco will take the nightwatch together and learn how to get along.”

Ace snorted, clearly seeing the teenager’s jaw slack down a little. He had obviously been expecting a gruesome fight to the death of sorts, and instead he was getting a childish punishment. 

“What if they keep fighting and we get attacked because they aren’t paying attention?” the swordsman questioned. 

“We’ll get a bit of exercise then, gurarara.”

Ace made the mistake of chuckling at that.

“Or nevermind, Ace can go and watch with them, he is new too after all.

* * *

“I am completely disfigured!!” Thatch dramatically said.

Ace was trying hard to be compassionate. He was really trying. But he had just managed to put his finger on the thing he had missed earlier. Seeing the wound all stitched up now, it was obvious. The fourth commander’s trademark crescent shaped scar had been given to him by his own crewmate. It was too funny to think about.

“There wasn’t much to disfigure in the first place.” Marco grumbled. 

The two boys had decided Ace would be the neutral wall between them. Thatch was sitting next to him in the crow’s nest while Marco was on the other side, balanced on the guardrail and making sure to watch them with contempt. It was obvious the phoenix’s feathers were ruffled (if he dared say so) as he had disappeared from the ship after his scolding and had only returned for the nightwatch.

“And I’m stuck here because of you two.” Ace sighed, crossing his legs to get a bit more comfortable. 

His complaint was met with two huffs. 

_ Brats _ .

Time passed by in a silence that could have been comfortable if they hadn’t been able to almost literally hear the cogs turning in Marco’s head. The teenage boy kept shifting, changing positions, and seemed focused on everything but the horizon line. 

Finally, he cracked. 

“That old man was able to grab me.” he announced gravely.

“Yeah.” Ace flatly replied. 

The blond’s head turned so fast he probably hurt his neck, looking at him like he was the stupidest man he ever met.

“I’m a bird made of  _ fire _ .”

“He is  _ Whitebeard _ .” Thatch interjected. 

It was Thatch’s turn to be on the receiving end of the ‘Are you stupid or just dense?’ gaze. The younger boy scoffed and crossed his arms. 

“He is one of the most well-known pirates in the World, of course he could do something like that.”

“He uses haki.” Ace felt the need to specify considering Thatch’s explanation was quite useless.

“...What?”

“Haki. Don’t you know? You use it too, that’s how you know where people are, and how you wake up when you are approached. Being able to touch devil fruit users like you and me as if we were normal people is one of the various ways haki can be used.”

Marco’s brain crashed, staring at him blankly. 

“...And...He can do that since...The beginning?”

“Yeah. And he probably isn’t the only one. See, if this crew really wanted to kill you for your fruit, it would be done already. I thought you knew, it’s quite reckless to get on board without even knowing how powerful the crew is.”

“What? You joined a crew you thought wanted to kill you?” Thatch interrupted. “Anyone ever told you you are a weirdo?”

Marco groaned. 

“Because you aren’t one yourself? What kind of plan is that, to go from orphan to pirate? You can’t even throw a punch! What would you have done if they had turned out evil? Would have been smarter to just stay on your island.”

“...Well...Actually…”

Thatch squirmed in place a bit before sighing, looking up at the sky.

“I’m not really an orphan.”

Ace raised his eyebrows. Great so they had unknowingly kidnapped a kid with parents. A short silence went by as the boy realized he wouldn’t get away with just that and he would have to explain further.

“I, erh, I’m from a noble family, actually. Not a crazy big one but still. And it’s...You know. My parents and I we had...Very different views on many thing, especially...Uh, I don’t...Agree with slavery.” he murmured as if it was a shameful thing to say.

Then he probably remembered it likely wasn’t a controversial opinion among this crew, because he looked at the two of them, scratching his head. 

“We’d fight a lot over that and they would...Well, punishing me wasn’t really effective. I can’t throw a punch but I can take one!”

Ace nodded. He sure had handled nearly losing his eye and getting a deep gash right next to it pretty well for a kid his age. A noble kid runaway… He sighed. That was familiar, wasn’t it?

“What would they do, then?” Marco asked in a surprisingly soft voice.

“...There was this other boy I was friend with, but he was a slave, and…” he trailed off, hugging his knees to his chest. 

There was no need for more details, silence falling on them for a few minutes. 

“...After that I took the keys one night. You know, slaves have to wear those explosive collars...I removed those, and we all sneaked out. We separated so it would be harder to find them...Especially me, since I knew my parents would be after me specifically...So, I guess I am still technically an orphan? It’s useless telling all that to the old man, I’m not going back anyway.” he warned. 

“I doubt he’d try and make you go back. You are part of the Whitebeard family now, the rest doesn’t matter much to Pops, or us. That goes for you too, Marco.”

Ace looked up at the blond and raised his eyebrows. His expression was quite unreadable, gaze transfixed on Thatch. He looked away when he realized he was being watched, pretending to look at the horizon.

“Some things can never not matter.” he mumbled

“Try him, you might be surprised.”

Whatever Marco was hiding had obviously not been enough to make Whitebeard kick him out of his ship, Ace at least knew that.

“Try us.” Thatch added firmly. 

The blond frowned at him, tensing. Ace thought he was going to transform and fly away, but his shoulders finally dropped and he sighed.

His hands reached up for the top buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one before letting go. The piece of clothing loosely hung from his shoulders, revealing his pale torso to them. 

And in the middle, in a burning red colour, the Celestial Dragons’ mark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly an original headcanon to have Marco be a former slave as I see it quite often, but I really like it. Thankfully, he is a free bird now!


End file.
